


The Contact Project

by witchelmm



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Pining, im alarmed how many fics ive had to use the pining tag in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchelmm/pseuds/witchelmm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy Jackson is best friends with Jason Grace and Rachel Dare. Normally, this doesn't cause many consequences--he's friends with them for a reason--but occasionally, he wishes that he had become friends with more... normal individuals.<br/>Actually, no. Spare Jason. This is just about Rachel. Rachel Elizabeth Dare and her fucking psychology projects. </p><p>(Warning: This was inspired by a BuzzFeed video someone needs to stop me.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Percy knew something was up as soon as Rachel offered him some of her coffee.

Well, obviously, anyone would know, right? Like, as a college student, you don’t just buy expensive food and not hoard it to yourself like a stingy dragon.

He didn’t drink the coffee, because he knew that if he did, he’d be essentially signing a binding contract that would most certainly end in his prolonged discomfort.

“Rach,” he started, but didn’t finish, as Rachel pressed her pointer finger into his lips.

“Sh,” she said. “Not yet. Let me make my case.”

Percy sighed. He spoke against Rachel’s finger, “…Go ahead.”

Rachel removed her hand. She said, “I have a psychology project.”

Percy’s heart sank. He thought maybe—just maybe—this once it would be something simple, like loaning Rachel his car. Or his limb. Or his soul. But it was never that simple. It was never, ever that simple.

“I already talked to Jason,” Rachel continued. “He agreed to do it.”

“Okay,” Percy said. “That just totally convinces me—do what, Rachel, what?”

Rachel rolled her eyes, blowing a corkscrew clump of hair out of her face. “My psychology project, asshole.”

Percy crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s the project, Dare? Because I’m not interested in being blindfolded again.”

Rachel shrugged, almost like she was unsure. “I mean, it wouldn’t be anything unlike that.”

“Details, details.”

“It involves disabilities. In… in a sense. But it’s mostly to see how much interaction someone can take before they…” Rachel trailed off, almost shrugging. “Y’know, snap.”

“I don’t like how this sounds.”

“Well, think about it,” Rachel said. “If goody-two-shoes Mister Jason Grace approves, what’s to stop his outgoing best friend?”

Percy looked at her, annoyed. “ ‘Outgoing’? You flatter me.”

“C’mon,” Rachel said. “It’s just a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks? Rachel, what the hell are you making us do?” Rachel got that gleam in her eyes—the gleam Annabeth got when she talked about architecture, or Percy’s mom when she talked about writing—as she broke down the rules of the project. “Okay, so you know how you can’t really hang around people for more than a couple of days without kind of wanting to kill them?”

Percy shrugged. “I guess. I’ve hung out with you and Jason for longer than that before, though.”

Rachel beamed. “Then you two’ll do great!” She got serious again, suddenly. “But really. This project is designed so I can measure exactly how long it takes. I’m making it so my test subjects literally can’t leave each other’s sides.”

Percy suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Rachel made a ‘pfft’ sound. “Of course not.” She grinned. “The question is, are you in?”

“Do I get compensation?”

“A contribution to the world of science.”

Percy scoffed. “Psychology isn’t real science.”

“Says the genealogy major.”

Percy wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that Rachel was wrong. “I’m not even going to try and argue with that.”

Rachel smiled again. “Great! So you’re in.”

Percy shrugged, although they both knew he would end up agreeing. “I still don’t really know what’s—”

“Meet me at my room at… eight tonight. I’ll explain everything.”

Again, Percy didn't bother to argue.


	2. 2

“Alrighty, then, soldiers,” Rachel said. She pushed both Percy and Jason down onto the edge of her bed by their shoulders. She handed Jason a pamphlet.   
“Rules,” she continued. “The controlled variable cannot be removed unless someone’s life is threatened and the situation cannot be dealt without intervention. The testing period is two weeks, but can be shortened—or extended—if necessary.” Rachel grinned, almost maliciously. “Side note,” she said, “it won’t.”   
Percy looked at Jason uneasily only to find that Jason was looking back at him, mirroring his expression.   
Percy looked back at Rachel. “Controlled variable?” was all he said.   
“Yeah,” Rachel responded. “The handcuffs.”   
Jason repeated. “The handcuffs.”   
“Mm-hm,” Rachel said. “Here. Choose a wrist, because you have to stick with it. C’mon.”   
Percy wanted to question further, but Jason was already reaching his hand out, so Percy went along. (Was it the fact that he too tired—he was always too tired—to argue? Was it that Jason seemed to have a strange effect on him that could make Percy do whatever Jason wanted him to? Was it because he actually—heaven forbid—believed in the importance of psychology? Who knew? But his wrist was out there anyway.)   
Rachel dashed to her dresser, opening drawers and throwing things on the floor. (Most of the things weren’t even clothes. They were old school assignments and dryer sheets and unfinished art projects.) She finally pulled out a pair of handcuffs.   
The click when they snapped shut was the worst part. It made them so official.   
“We can…” Percy swallowed. “We can back out, right? Like, if we really want to?”  
“Well, yeah,” Rachel said. She twirled the key to the cuffs between her fingers. “But I don’t think you’ll have to. Just do this. It’s only a couple of weeks.”   
“Ha,” Jason responded.   
Rachel rolled her eyes. “It’s not gonna be that bad, honestly.” She motioned them both up. “Now go, nerds,” she said. “Live your conjoined dreams.”   
After Rachel kicked them out, she shut the door behind them.   
Percy turned to Jason, almost laughing. “So what do we—?”   
“—I actually have a group to get to? But we could—we should probably skip.”   
Percy smiled drily. “Probably.”   
“Just maybe,” Jason said before shrugging. “I have homework to do.”   
Percy reached up to pat Jason’s head with his (free) hand. “Aw,” he said, “you say that like you’re the only one.”   
“So we’ll stop at my room to get stuff and—actually, it’s better if we”—Jason stopped again—“how often is your roommate in your room? ‘Cause mine is, like, always there.”   
Percy shrugged. “…Normal amounts? I mean, he gets there after I’m asleep and leaves before I wake up… or maybe he’s just never there while I’m sleeping. I don’t know, I think he has friends or something.”   
To Percy’s surprise (and relief), Jason seemingly recognized that Percy had been trying to be funny and met his inside-joke grin. “Terrifying,” Jason commented.  
Percy looked at Jason in the way that Rachel always said made him ‘look like a little shit’, and said, “But why does it matter who’s there with us? What’re you planning to do, Grace?”   
Jason looked back at Percy in a way that was both warmed with embarrassment and completely annoyed. “Nothing,” he said, obviously stressing the word. “I just think it would be kind of weird if someone walked in and we were, like, asleep together.”   
Percy shook his head dismissively. “Your friends already think we’re gay anyway.”   
Jason looked perplexed, but ultimately didn’t argue. “What about your friends?”   
Percy grinned again. “I don’t have friends.”   
“Right. So it’s your room.”   
“It’s my room.”   
Percy got up, starting to lead, but quickly heard Jason complain from behind him. Partnering the grunts of disapproval at Percy’s speed, Jason said, “Why do you walk so fast? You’re, like, a mile shorter than me.”   
“First of all,” Percy said, yanking on the handcuffs, “I’m five ten.” He tugged Jason around a corner. “And second of all…” he yanked open the door to the stairwell, “I’m fuelled by spite.”   
“Regardless,” Jason said, but Percy could hear him laughing, “slow down.”   
Percy sighed as he slowed. Really, he had been speeding up just so he could say ‘fuelled by spite’. He had thought it would make Jason laugh, and it did, so he was successful.   
He was already emotionally tired. This was going to be a long two weeks.


	3. 3

Jason slammed his laptop shut, making Percy jump next to him on the floor of his room. Not only because it was out of character for Jason, but also the fact that Jason was actually pretty strong, so Percy feared for the safety of the laptop.  
“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Jason said. He was obviously annoyed. This was only the first night, so Percy didn’t think he wanted to know where’d they’d be by the end of the two weeks.  
“What,” Percy started, almost tentative, “isn’t going to work?”  
“This!” Jason said, gesturing towards his computer.  
“Is it broken…?”  
Jason attempted to cross his arms over his chest, which of course just yanked Percy’s hand with him, so Jason ended up just glaring at the handcuffs and letting his arms fall back to his sides.  
“No, it’s not broken,” Jason finally responded. “It’s just that we can’t type at the same time. Which means we can’t work. Which obviously isn’t possible.”  
Percy snorted. “Of course it’s possible. Look at me. I do it all the time.”  
“Not the time.”  
Percy shook his head. “Never is.”  
There were a few moments of silence where Percy wasn’t sure if Jason was brooding or trying to think of a solution. He knew that he was half-thinking, half-focusing on the feeling of Jason’s shoulder pressed to his. He assumed that after a few days of this handcuff thing, his chest would stop spazzing out whenever Jason touched him—or at least he hoped it would.  
“Well,” Jason said, “we have two options. I don’t know which one sucks less.”  
Percy rolled his un-cuffed hand in a ‘go on’ motion.  
“Option one: we take turns typing, so we just take the other person’s hand with us, which is inefficient, or we both just type with one hand, which is equally as inefficient.”  
“Or we fuck homework,” Percy added.  
Jason directed his glare towards Percy. “Or not.”  
Percy held up his one free hand in surrender. “Sure. That, too. I vote in favor of one-handed typing.”  
Jason sighed. “Fine.”  
“Did you like the other idea better?”  
“No.”  
Percy reached over to open Jason’s laptop. “Then it’s settled.”  
-  
“Perce.” Jason shook Percy’s shoulder again, only this time he woke up. “Percy, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep on me.”  
Percy lifted his head off the edge of his bed behind him, stifling a yawn. “Like, actually on you?”  
Jason shut his laptop again—civilly this time. “No, but I think it’s time for actual sleep anyway.”  
Percy covered his mouth with the back of his free hand as he finally did yawn. “Shit,” he commented. “What time is it?”  
“One thirty-ish.”  
“This hour is for the sleep of the weak,” Percy said.  
Jason shook his head, his face looking almost marveled. “No wonder you’re always so tired.”  
“…How’d you come to that conclusion…?”  
“You’re always falling asleep.”  
“…Bullshit.”  
Percy was pretty sure he had his eyes closed, but he could here the quiet smile in Jason’s voice. “You’re doing it again.”  
“…Fine.” Percy stood up, thus dragging Jason with him, and plugged his laptop in.  
“I’m gonna need to get some of my stuff from my room,” Jason remarked. “We’ll make a trip later.”  
Percy looked over his shoulder from the plug he was wrestling with. “Why?”  
Jason gave him a strangely endearing version of the ‘you really are an idiot’ look (Percy often got it from Annabeth) and said, “Because I’m going to be sleeping here?”  
“Oh. Right.” Percy finished with the plug (hey, it was hard to do with one hand), and turned to look what Jason was doing. Jason was kicking off his shoes while organizing the crumpled sheets of Percy’s bed.  
“At least the rooms are tiny,” Jason practically hummed. “Makes it easy to double task.”  
Percy was wearing a tshirt, which was fine, but he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep in jeans (if he was even able to fall asleep in the same bed as Jason in the first place). He struggled single-handedly (literally) with the buttons as Jason watched, amused.  
Percy cursed as he realized he wasn’t going to get the fly down before the next morning.  
Before he could react, Jason reached for the button, using his thumb to maneuver it halfway through the denim slit before stopping.  
“Hold onto the other side,” he said, concentrating so (adorably, Percy would admit) hard that he bit his lip. The button popped through.  
“Huzzah,” Jason commented. He knelt, hooking his fingers around the top of Percy’s jeans and pulling.  
“W-what are you doing?”  
Jason looked up at Percy, perplexed. “Helping you get them off.”  
“Oh. Right.”  
“You’re going to need to actually help, you know.”  
“Right.”  
Percy pushed down on his other hip, and with the sheer power of cooperation, the pair managed to get Percy’s jeans to a fabric scrunch around his ankles.  
“Don’t look so embarrassed, for Christ’s sake,” Jason said. “It’s your fault you wear hipster skinny jeans.”  
“They’re skater,” Percy said, but his only other response was kicking off his jeans.  
“Right,” Jason said. “I’m the hipster.” He stood back up and inched closer to the bed (this whole ‘moving as a unit’ thing was really starting to get on Percy’s nerves).  
Percy followed. “You are.” He’d meant it to be suave (laughable, really, when it came to him), but he ended up yawning as soon as he finished talking.  
Jason laughed, glancing at the clock. “It took us ten minutes to get your pants off. That’s so sad that it’s funny.”  
Percy gestured to Jason’s sweatpants. “Note to self: dress like you.” He moved his gaze up to Jason’s face, squinting. “You’re dressed oddly appropriately, Jason,” he accused. “It’s almost like you knew.”  
Jason grinned again. “I didn’t, I promise. The sleep deprivation is making you paranoid.”  
Every time Jason mentioned sleep, Percy’s limbs seemed to get a little heavier. He nodded, following Jason on their awkward, joint trip onto the twin-sized mattress.  
Then ensued the half-hour where they tried to find a comfortable position, before realizing that one didn’t exist. They either had to sacrifice the comfort of someone’s limb, bending it in a terrible way, or one of them would have to deal with chafing metal for the whole night. They eventually decided on the least uncomfortable position they could find.  
Percy was on his stomach, whilst Jason was on his back. Percy’s handcuffed hand made an arc over his own head, joining with Jason’s handcuffed hand, which was simply held up between his and Percy’s heads. Percy’s other arm had nowhere to go, and was consequently slung over Jason’s stomach.  
Really, they could’ve gone with lying side-by-side, both staring at the ceiling, but they’d both mutely seemed to decide that that would’ve been too awkward. Jason argued that he never would’ve been able to fall asleep.  
Percy doubted that, next to Jason at least, he’d ever be able to sleep.


	4. 4

“Percy.” Percy’s arm was shoved off from Jason’s stomach.   
Percy answered ‘what’, but it was muffled either by Jason’s body or the mattress.   
“Percy, I need to pee.”   
That got Percy awake. “What?”   
“I said I need to pee.”   
“Can you maybe wait until it’s not”—Percy looked at the clock—“four thirty AM?”  
“There’s going to be less people in the bathroom at this time.”   
“…True. But…”   
“No, we’re going.” Jason sat up, pushing what section of Percy was on him off and tugging Percy after him.   
“C’mon. Bathroom. We’re going.”   
Percy made a few wordless protests, but let himself be dragged.   
There were a few people in the halls, as there always were, but not nearly as many people as there could have been. (Percy still didn’t know where his roommate was. The guy seemed to have too much of a social life.)   
Percy’s eyes were basically still half-closed when they got into the (thankfully empty) bathroom, but shot open as soon as Jason started laughing.   
“What?” he demanded.   
“Nothing, nothing,” Jason said. His voice one one-third whisper, one-third laugh, one-third pitch. Percy had already memorized it.   
He repeated, just as urgently, “What?”   
“You’re not wearing any pants.”   
Percy looked down, and sure enough, he was still in underwear. “Why’s that funny?”   
Jason shook his head, still laughing. “It’s not. I don’t know why I’m laughing.”   
Jason managed to quiet down.   
“Do you need help?” Percy asked. “Like, with the pants?”   
“No. Sweats, remember?”   
“Right.”   
There was quiet before Percy continued, “I’m not looking.”   
He could almost hear Jason grin as he responded, “Shame.”   
“Shut up.”   
There were a few more seconds of quietness before Jason said. “Okay, done.” He dragged Percy over to the sink, making them both wash their hands.   
“What if this thing rusts?” Percy asked, referring to the cuffs.   
“We’ll go get tetanus shots together,” Jason responded, sounded absentminded.   
“What about when one of us has to shit?”   
“The other one will suck it up.”   
“What if I get a girl and we’re going to bang on my bed?”   
Jason turned to look back at Percy. They were almost back to Percy’s room, moving faster now than when they had originally left. “Hilarious.”  
They had reached Percy’s room.   
“You’re a jealous shit,” Percy said.   
Jason shut the door behind them. “I’m always a jealous shit.”   
Percy’s roommate was there, half-conscious on his bed. He made a gruntish noise when Percy and Jason walked in. Percy immediately quieted down, shushing Jason as well by snapping his free hand over Jason’s mouth.   
When they went back to sleep this time, they had switched positions. Jason’s head was dangerously close to Percy’s chest, and Percy was afraid that Jason would feel how fast his heart was beating. Percy tried to find the upside: like this, Jason couldn’t see Percy smiling like a lunatic.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering why I never italicize it's because I'm lazy. I don't want to go through the HTML editor and add in all the script. I use adjective instead like a noob.

Percy wasn’t sure what woke him up: Jason tapping his shoulder, his roommate screaming: “FUCK!”, or his phone vibrating in his pocket as Rachel called him.  
He couldn’t differentiate, you see, because they all happened at the same time.  
Regardless, when his roommate—his name was Shane—screeched like a heralding banshee, both Percy and Jason jumped in surprise (and mild terror).  
Shane was staring down at his intensely bloodied leg. “Fuck,” he said again.  
“Dude,” Percy called, “what’s wrong?”  
Shane looked up, eyes wild. “I don’t fucking know!” Then he seemed to notice Jason. “Aw, come on! You—of all people—are getting ass and I’m not? That’s not—”  
“Now’s not the time,” Jason said, already taking over.  
“Yeah,” Percy interjected. “Now’s the time to tell us how you nearly amputated your own limb.”  
Shane stood up, staggering. “I don’t fucking know, man, I told you. I’m gonna—ah, fuck. See you in Hell, I guess.” He made his way to the door, holding an old shirt around his leg in such a way that let him not get any blood on the floor (truly impressive), and limped down the hall.  
“Should we…?” Jason asked.  
“Nah,” Percy answered, already lying back against the mattress. “I’m pretty sure he’s a cyborg. He’ll be fine.”  
Jason tapped Percy’s shoulder again. “Dude, we need to go.”  
Percy simultaneously shook his head in refusal and said, “What? Why?”  
When Percy opened his eyes again, Jason was smiling a little. “ ‘Cause I have class.”  
Percy glanced at the clock. “At six?” He turned his head, burrowing into what he thought was more of the pillow, but was actually Jason’s hip. “The fuck, man?”  
Jason put his free hand on the space above Percy’s ear, like he was going to do something, but his hand ended up just staying there, his fingers tangling in Percy’s hair.  
Percy shivered. He hoped that Jason hadn’t noticed.  
“I figured we could do every other class for each of us,” Jason said, “and every day we would switch.”  
“You ‘figure’ too much. How about we not do that, and go to sleep, because it’s fuckin’ early.”  
“What do you want me to do?” Jason said. “Make you breakfast in bed?”  
Percy half-laughed, strained and dry. “That wouldn’t be too bad, no.”  
Jason moved his hand back, gently dragging Percy after him as he got up. “Nope,” he said. “We’re living our lives.”  
Percy groaned, but ultimately followed. “What about food?” he asked.  
Jason looked back. “What about it?” he deadpanned. When he saw Percy’s horrified expression, he continued, “Nah, we’ll get something.”  
“Can we eat off campus?” Percy asked. So far, all he’d managed to do was stand in the center of the room, rubbing his eyes, and generally not wearing pants, while Jason rooted through his closet to find something.  
“Sure,” Jason answered, but not like he was really paying attention. Then he continued, “Jesus, you take this ‘skater’ thing seriously, huh?”  
“I guess.”  
Jason tossed him a crumpled mess of fabric. “Can you actually, though?”  
Percy looked up, indignant. “Obviously.”  
Jason grinned at him. (It seemed that this shit was only ever this sarcastic with him. What did Percy ever do to deserve this?) “You’re not a poser.”  
Percy stuck his tongue out. “Blame your ex. She punctured my skin.”  
“Oh, yeah,” Jason said. “I remember that. You don’t use it.” Jason was suddenly very, very close, busy looking at Percy’s ear. “Hardcore,” he whispered. He was being sarcastic again.  
“Looks nice. You should use it,” Jason commented. It was offhanded, probably not even serious, but Percy’s head was buzzing from the compliment anyway.  
“I… I have some studs.”  
Jason shook his head, closing the closet. “No time.” He turned, surveying Percy and his still-very-obvious ball of fabric. “Dude, you haven’t changed yet?”  
“I didn’t know when you were going to turn around!”  
Jason half-rolled his eyes (even though he was a sarcastic asshole, he never quite got to Percy levels of snark).  
“God,” Jason said. He shut his eyes. “Okay, I’m not looking.”  
Percy changed his underwear as fast as he could, using two hands and thus pulling Jason’s hand with him, and then Jason’s hand hit his thigh, and every time it happened, Percy thought ‘Jason’s touching me’, and then every time he thought that he immediately thought ‘holy fuck, I need to calm down’.  
Eventually he was wearing pants (his highschool gym sweatpants—a truly fashionable choice), and he had calmed down, and he said, “You can look now.”  
“I don’t know how in hell we’re going to get our shirts off, but…”  
“We will… cross that bridge when we come to it.”  
Jason smiled brightly. (Percy had come to know that there were a variety of Jason’s expressions that made Percy want to do a variety of things. This one happened to match up with ‘hug’, or possibly ‘kiss his cheek’. Jason was just adorable. Universal truth.)  
“Exactly,” Jason said. At first, Percy thought that Jason was responding to Percy’s thoughts, which he might’ve said out loud. Then he realized that it was far more likely that Jason was referring to what Percy had previously said… although Percy couldn’t remember what that was.  
They crossed over to the corner as a unit, had a great struggle trying to lace up Percy’s converse, and then left to face the world. Halfway down the hallway, Jason grabbed Percy’s hand, jokingly swinging it back and forth.  
Percy didn’t see the point of Rachel’s project. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of this.


	6. 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. None of you will probably notice this but (now you will cause im pointing it out): There is a point in this chapter where I can't space the two different lines? So Percy says something, and then Jason says something, and they're on the same line and i cant chaNGE IT AND Its driving me MAD. So there you go. I know it's there and I have no idea how to fix it.

“You should teach me how to skate sometime,” Jason said around a bite of muffin. He was using his free hand to eat and gesture, and his handcuffed hand lay alarmingly close to Percy’s on the table. If Percy just moved his coffee cup three inches, it would cover up the metallic glint and people might think they were holding hands.  
They were holding hands. That morning. Percy’s chest warmed at the memory.  
“Perce?” Jason said. Percy was suddenly shaken from his thoughts.  
“Oh, yeah,” he said, suddenly remembering what Jason had said. “I’d… I’d like that.”  
Jason shook his head. “I’m starting to rethink,” he said, “I don’t know… I feel like I’d be so bad that you’d just laugh at me.”  
“You’d be cute,” Percy responded, quick and unthinking.  
Jason didn’t say anything, and it took that silence to make Percy realize what he’d said.  
“That’s not what I meant,” he said quietly. “I mean, I…” he died off and lifted his head to meet Jason’s eyes. “There’s no way I’m digging myself out of this one, is there?”  
Jason smiled, almost pitying. “Nope.”  
“Can we just ignore it?”  
Jason shrugged. “Sure. S’not a big deal, anyway.”  
Percy grinned. “What did I tell you about slurring ‘it’s not’?”  
Jason shook his head. He grabbed Percy’s coffee and took a sip, seemingly as punishment. “What did I tell you about being an immature shit?”  
Percy just laughed.  
-  
Percy scrawled on the corner of Jason’s paper: ‘Why are your classes so boring?’.  
Jason turned slightly, giving Percy a silent look of affectionate annoyance before writing his answer down: ‘today’s a lecture, so it’s not fair’.  
Percy just answered: ‘Whatever’.  
Jason was actually paying attention to the lecture (and whatever the fuck it was on. The double meanings of lighting in Medieval religious art? Like Percy gave a single shit about that), besides when he got distracted by something—which was often. Even though Jason was the most studious out of the pair, he still had ADHD.  
A few of these distractions were things like: Percy tapping his leg. Percy tapping Jason’s leg. Percy humming every RHCP song ever made in rapid succession (Percy was rather proud of himself. He wasn’t good at anything musical). Sometimes Percy found that Jason was staring at him when he hadn’t even done anything. (Maybe he had been breathing too loud? The lecture hall was astoundingly quiet.)  
Percy entertained himself in a variety of ways—most of the being the previously listed distractions to Jason—and the last one being staring at Jason.  
Even though Percy had a lot more to go on now (Jason’s personality, leadership qualities, the way he treated people), Jason’s appearance was the first thing that had started Percy’s infatuation with (obsession with? Crush on? No, it was probably bigger than that. He knew it was bigger than that. It was one of those things where you just—more on that later. He was getting sidetracked) him.  
When Jason concentrated, or he was angry (although Percy rarely saw that directed at him, so he was always free to observe), his jaw shifted in a way that made Percy weak in a different joint every time.  
That was just one of the examples. Percy could go on, but… that would be an embarrassingly long list.  
Regardless, Jason’s class ended eventually, and the two were free. …Well, as free as you could be when you were handcuffed to your companion.  
“So,” Jason said. “Where’s your first class? And when?”  
Percy let out a laugh that was more of a ‘psft’ sound and said, “I don’t take anything this early.”  
“…It’s nine thirty.”  
“Exactly.”  
Jason shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”  
“But you think my face looks nice,” Percy reminded him, trying to sound sarcastic, not hopeful.  
“I said your earrings look nice. Don’t get confused.”  
Percy bumped his shoulder against Jason’s as best he could, being four inches shorter than him. “So you don’t like my face?” He reached up with his free hand to angle Jason’s face towards his own. He was feeling incredibly brave. Almost high. He had no fucking idea why. “Is your nose getting bigger, Jason? Because I could swear you were being a bitch-ass liar…”  
Jason batted Percy’s hand off his face. “Shut up.”  
Percy stared at him.  
“Okay, fine,” Jason said. “You have a good face. I admit.”  
“Doesn’t it feel great to get that off your chest?”  
Jason laughed. “Shut up!”  
They were half-moving, half not. Like… swaying. They were ‘swaying’ together—against each other, almost—outside the lecture hall, in the air that was on the threshold of being mist but not quite, and laughing like idiots.  
“You seem oddly defensive,” Percy commented, constantly buffered by Jason’s arms boxing him into a state of hilarity, or his own mind telling him to move, move, move.  
Jason threatened through a grin, “I’ll actually hit you.”  
“Like you ever would.” Percy smiling, and the amused spark in Jason’s eyes told him that it had been as entitled and cheeky on the outside as it had been on the inside.  
Really, on the inside, it had also been twinged with nervousness. This entire day had been too close. Every day kept getting closer. Where would he be by day fourteen?


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! So I haven't updated in a MILLION YEARS, but it's because school started up after a week-long break. I'm gonna try to upload every couple of days (as opposed to my twice a day schedule from before) but I might not make it. Key example: the four day gap between this and the previous chapter. I'm sorry really... lmao I hope this 1.5k chap makes up for it!! <3
> 
> Fun game: find where I started listening to sad music. It's pretty easy.

They had both decided that sleeping would be a lot easier if they both just got over themselves. Meaning that Jason was very, very close to Percy, who was also very, very close to him.   
Jason’s mouth had slipped open once he had fallen asleep, and every time he breathed out, the warmth spread out across the fabric of Percy’s t-shirt. (He didn’t drool like Percy did, either, so that was another plus.)  
Jason’s slow breathing made Percy feel tired, but he knew that he wasn’t. Well, he knew that he was, but he also knew that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep when Jason was literally on his chest. Willingly. Like, Jason had been like ‘well, time to fall asleep. I think Percy would make a great pillow!’ (Okay, so it hadn’t happened like that. But whatever.)   
Jason shifted position, jabbing Percy’s ribs. Percy managed to make a not-horrendously loud noise and shift, causing his ribs to be fine but the rest of his body to be significantly uncomfortable.   
Damn. His back was going to be completely killing him in the morning.   
-  
“Percy. Wake up.”   
It was eight fifteen, and Percy was woken up by a mostly-asleep Jason who just happened to mumble on time.   
Percy was going to groan in protest, as was the status quo, but he realized that if he didn’t get up, Jason never would, and then neither of them would ever move.   
Percy’s heart jumped. Jason didn’t want to move. Jason was in bed with Percy, and he didn’t want to move.   
Percy sat up, then, no matter how much he wanted to stay, and brought a stumbling Jason with him to the closet.   
“Do you have scissors?” Percy asked. “I don’t.”   
Jason didn’t answer.   
“Jay. Dude. I’m talking to you.”   
Jason opened his eyes, looking a little lost, and Percy laughed. Jason shrugged.   
“How come you do worse the later you wake up?” Percy asked. Jason shrugged again.   
“Whatever,” Percy said, “but we need to take off these shirts, so we need scissors.”   
Jason’s eyes shot open. “No,” he said. “There’s another way—I mean, it’s harder, but it’ll work. Take off your shirt and let it stay on our conjoined arm.”   
Percy did what Jason asked, although not without a decent amount of T-rex-like struggling, and the shirt hung between them. Standing shirtless and alone was a big temperature difference from being clothed and having a Jason on top of you. Percy shivered.   
Jason stared, perplexed, at the shirt. “In theory,” he started, “this would’ve worked, but… all the holes are different sizes. In my head they were the same.”   
“Now what?”   
Jason shrugged helplessly. “I think I have scissors,” he said.   
When they found the scissors, Jason cut Percy’s shirt off their handcuffs and gave the scissors to Percy, gesturing to himself with his free hand.   
Jason squinted his eyes shut when Percy approached with the scissors. He winced at every snipping sound. “I’m making Rachel buy me new shirts,” he said.   
“Do you have any tanktops?” Percy asked. To Jason, it would probably sound random, but Percy had a plan. “I think I have some if you don’t.”   
“…Yeah. Like, one. Maybe two.”   
“Great.”   
Jason’s shirt finally fell to the floor. Percy didn’t realize how close he had been standing behind Jason before it was suddenly just warm skin. He jolted back. Jason yelped as he wrist was twisted with the motion.  
They amassed the tank tops, and Percy’s snipped one out of every two shoulder straps, creating two ties.   
“Percy, it’s, like, two degrees today,” Jason argued.   
Percy looked up from his snipping. “Your point?”   
“My point is that we’re going to freeze and die.”   
“…You have a better idea?”   
“We go to Rachel.”   
Percy tried to cross his arms—he was trying to remember not to—and said, “No, definitely not.”  
“Is this a pride thing?”   
Percy shrugged.   
“Percy, you have no right to be angry—you just cut up all my fucking shirts.”  
Percy shrugged again, less stand-offish this time and more diplomatic.   
Jason snatched up the shirts. “We’re going to Rachel,” he said. “Right now.”   
“Okay, okay,” Percy said. “…Do I get to wear a shirt?”   
Jason dragged him out of the room. “Does it really matter?”  
Percy wanted to argue that yes, it did matter, to him at least, but they were already shirtless in the middle of the hallway.   
-  
Rachel, apparently, thought it was hilarious. As soon as they told her, she started having some sort of laughing fit.   
Luckily, she had been in her room and her roommate wasn’t when Percy and Jason had gone to go find her.   
“You’re both idiots,” she’d said, but she’d agreed to unlock them so they could change. Of course, there were conditions: She was only doing this once a day, so they’d have so sleep in their clothes. They had to go to her room—she wasn’t going to theirs—and she had to be able to monitor how much time they spent uncuffed. What that last one translated to was her in the corner, commenting on Jason’s shoulders while Percy tried to pretend that he was alone.  
He had to agree, though. Jason did have… really nice shoulders.  
Jason stared at Percy, hands on his hips. “God,” he said. “Feels nice to be untethered.”   
“Rude,” Percy answered, but he smiled.   
“Nah,” Jason said. “Unless you’re handcuffs.”   
“I’m not,” Percy answered. Then he felt like an idiot.  
Jason just grinned, half-contained, like he was making an inside joke. “You’re not.”  
There were a few seconds of open staring, in which Percy had to remember to value it, value it, value it—but he really couldn’t. Not when he was almost laughing from the pure amount of expressions Jason’s face went through.   
When it became evident that neither of them was going to speak, Rachel gagged. She ushered them together so she could re-cuff them.   
“Maybe it’s good this thing stops you from taking your clothes off,” she commented.   
“Shut up,” Jason said. He wasn’t the type of person to seriously say ‘shut up’ to someone, so Percy knew he was at least half-joking. “We’ll take our clothes off if we want to.”   
“Hm,” Rachel said. Then, quieter, “But do you want to?”   
Percy didn’t know if Jason hadn’t heard or not.   
After a few beats of silence, before it could transition from awkward to really awkward, Rachel said, “Welp.” Then she said, “I’m gonna go back to my room now. Have a lovely day, and remember to bring clothes with you in the future.”   
-  
This was literally going to drive Percy insane.   
It was close—everything was always so goddamn fucking close—and it was going to make Percy completely lose his mind.   
It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand it—okay, well, it was that he couldn’t stand it—but not in that sense. His chest already felt like it was going to explode when Jason was around him anyway, how was he supposed to survive when they guy actually couldn’t leave his side?   
He wasn’t. That was the answer. This entire project had been designed to kill him.   
For instance—right now, he was curled so much on top of Jason that he was practically in him.   
The backstory for this is that Jason wanted to work (Percy didn’t), so Percy had to be close enough for Jason to utilize both of his hands.   
He had tried to fall asleep—and he’d half succeeded. He would blink awake every so often, wishing he hadn’t.   
Eventually, even though he never thought he’d be able to, he fell asleep for real. The only time he was semi-awake was when the light suddenly turned off. But at that point he was already in bed (how, he didn’t know), and Jason was half-leaning over him for the light.  
One of Jason’s arms—the one with the handcuff—was pressing close to Percy’s, his skin soft and the whole atmosphere generally calm. Percy felt Jason moving above him, settling back, and immediately snapped into pretend sleep mode.  
Jason let out a long breath, his chest warm and half-flush to Percy’s.  
“I know you’re awake,” Jason said. It wasn’t really accusing, just factual.   
“Mm,” Percy responded.   
There was a long silence in which Percy almost fell asleep again before he continued, “S’early. ‘Course I’m awake.”   
Jason’s tone suggested that he had the nerve to think he was the more logical person—even in his current physical position. “One, it’s eleven thirty. Two, the reason we’re going to sleep now is because I have plans for tomorrow.”   
Percy didn’t speak for a while. He was so tired he felt drugged. (He was always so tired. Maybe an upside to this was that Jason made him to sleep on time—or at least somewhat close to it.) When he finally did talk, he said, “What kind of plans? More lectures?”   
Jason’s laugh was a quiet, raspy half-whisper. “Nah. Fun plans. I figured we might as well make the most of this. Tomorrow’s Saturday.”   
Percy simply said again, “Mm.”


	8. 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee look at all those time skips!! (No really. There's a looooooot of time skips. This is all one day-ish though. Wow Im an overwriter.)  
> Anywayyyyy I'm gonna be doing a super long AU over the summer, so I'll probably be done the first draft of this fic (that you are reading right now) in the next week or two (ish).  
> Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy (wowza formal)

“So,” Jason said. Percy was half asleep (wasn’t he always), staring up at the ceiling, incredibly close to Jason (wasn’t he always), and trying to control his rapid heartbeat (wasn’t he always).  
“So,” Percy repeated.  
“We have the whole day to ourselves,” Jason said.  
“Mmhm.”  
Jason looked over at Percy, atop the mattress, and grinned. It would be so, so easy to just take Jason’s hand right then. Percy resisted, instead settling for saying, “What do you want to do?”  
Jason simply grinned some more, so close to laughing. Had Percy not known him better, he would’ve assumed that Jason was high. “I don’t know,” Jason said. “What do you wanna do?”  
“You said you had plans.”  
Jason shrugged, looking all too casual. “I do.”  
“…What are those plans?”  
Jason shrugged again.  
Percy just stared at him. Jason had propped himself up on one elbow, the one with the hand attached to Percy’s, but then he dropped back down, shaking the bed when his back hit it.  
He just smiled at Percy more. “I don’t know, Perce.”  
“…Are you drunk?”  
“…No…?” Jason was peering over Percy’s shoulder. “Apparently just tired. Percy, look at the clock.”  
Percy turned, seeing the blinking three AM. He blew out a huff of frustrated air.  
“Agh,” he said, pathetically, laying back into the mattress and waiting for Jason to join him. Jason did, eventually, his body relaxing again.  
It was dark, and Percy couldn’t see Jason, but he could basically feel Jason’s ADHD leaking out.  
Jason whispered, “I’m so excited.”  
Percy whispered back, mainly mocking, “Why?”  
Jason whispered, “Because I planned you a thing.”  
“You’d think you were taking me on a date.”  
Jason laughed a little, and Percy couldn’t decipher the emotion behind it and whether or not Jason was joking. Jason’s hand (the handcuffed one) found Percy’s bravely—he was joking, then—and linked their fingers together.  
“So what if I am?”  
-  
When Percy woke up, Jason’s hand was still loosely linked with his. Jason was clearly asleep: lips slightly parted, hair (a darker blond than it would have been in the summer) going everywhere on the pillow, and splayed shoulders in a slanting, uncaring stance more reminiscent of his sister.  
Percy looked down at their hands, at the way Jason’s was only slightly larger than his, at the way the colors meshed together (the pale peach tones of Jason’s skin with the light browns of Percy’s), at the way Percy could so easily bring them up to his mouth…  
He froze as he realized the back of Jason’s palm was currently pressed against his lips. Damn his brain. In a flash, their hands were separated, and Jason’s eyes flew open, as that had woken him up.  
The first thing Jason did was smile at Percy, which of course made Percy’s chest actually shake.  
“Hey,” Jason said, after a few seconds of silence, and it was so anti-climactic that Percy started laughing.  
“Hey,” he responded. “It’s eight o’ clock.”  
Jason propped himself up on his non-handcuffed arm, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Without thinking, Percy reached his free hand up to help. Jason didn’t object. “Perfect time,” Jason remarked.  
Percy couldn’t help but grin. “For what?”  
“Well, first, food,” Jason said. “Then surprise.”  
“Where is food?”  
“You pick.”  
“This really is a date, huh?”  
Jason, in response, just shrugged. “Let’s go get dressed.”  
-  
Rachel was not happy to see them.  
“It’s like eight fifteen!” she lamented. “On a Saturday morning!”  
“Yeah, it is,” Jason said, impatiently holding out their conjoined wrists so that Rachel could uncuff them. “And we have places to be, so it’s perfectly reasonable.”  
Rachel grumbled, “What are those places?”  
“Jason’s taking me to a romantic day in the city,” Percy answered, sounding smug, before Jason could either answer differently or protest.  
Jason, surprisingly, chose neither of aforementioned options. He just shrugged.  
“Hoi, hoi,” Rachel said. Jason and Percy looked over at each other, Jason trying to decipher what the noises Rachel made had meant, Percy just looking to accept them.  
-  
“Upper East Side, huh?” Percy asked, Jason’s arm resting on his shoulder as they started at the subway map. (Like, the transportation system. Not the restaurant. What would that map be, a box?) Percy would’ve normally complained about being used as an arm rest, but he was pretty sure it was a clever ploy to hide the (quite obvious) handcuffs, so he let it stay. Besides, passers by might think that they were a couple, which was something that Percy never got tired of.  
“Yeah,” Jason responded.  
Percy grinned. “Wonder what’s up there?”  
Jason shrugged, but he looked down at Percy to return the smile.  
They stared at the map for a few more seconds, but Percy was fully aware that they were just staring at the map in the same way that they were not staring at each other.  
-  
“You’re an asshole,” Percy said, but he had just finished laughing. The pair stood in front of an aquarium, blue decorative spires casting tell-tale shadows overhead.  
“Why?” Jason asked. “Because it goes against your teenage rebellion?”  
Percy shrugged, possibly embarrassed. “Mainly.” Then he continued, “Look, I can’t help it that the only thing my dad cares about is his freaking aquariums.”  
Jason grinned. “Well, you could help that you loudly proclaimed that you hated them, thus having to live with Rachel for the weekend.”  
Percy rammed his elbow into Jason’s gut. “Who kicks their kid out for three days over an aquarium?”  
“The owner of the National Marine Protection Association.”  
“…Fair point. You’re paying for this, right?”  
Jason made a sound in the affirmative and nodded.  
-  
“Okay,” Percy said. “I lied.”  
Jason grinned at him, on the verge of shit-eating. “About what?”  
“Hating aquariums.”  
Jason’s smile grew to triumphant. “What made you change your mind?”  
“It’s just…” Percy gestured at the tank in front of them. Just a few minutes before they had fallen into silence, they had been joking about the stories of octopi escaping their enclosures and wreaking havoc on the facility. This, of course, led to Percy bringing up that an octopus was most likely smarter than a human, which prompted Jason to ask if this also meant that they were more efficient, which led Percy to suggest an octopus head of state, which made them both bring up how an octopus would handle being placed in various high-degree, high-demand jobs.  
Now, the same octopus was before them—barely three inches across—alone in its tank, almost posing for them in the center. It was bright blue against the dark, dark, dark around it.  
“It’s just so fucking cool,” Percy finished.  
Jason laughed. “It’s pretty cool. Maybe you could change to marine biology, Perce.”  
Percy made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “No way. I can’t handle deep water. Nope, no, nada.”  
Jason looked both surprised and confused. “What? Why? You’re an amazing swimmer.”  
Percy shook his head vigorously. “No oceans. Nope. Can’t do it. Not today.” He gestured with his head to the tiny blue octopus. “But I like looking at it.”  
Jason didn’t exactly nod in understanding, but he seemed to get it, drop it, and turn back to the tank. The blue lights illuminating the information board about the octopus shone on Jason’s face, highlighting him in blue. The metal between their wrists flashed sapphire. Percy shifted to hide it.  
‘And I like looking at you.’ But he didn’t say it.  
Instead, he gestured to the octopus and said, “I’d name him Vlad.”  
Jason dipped his head in defeat, laughing silently, and generally seeming to bask in what Percy guessed was his own brand of Jackson-strange.  
“Yeah,” Jason said finally. “It’s a good name.”  
“Bull,” Percy said. “It’s a shit name. That’s the point.”  
Jason shrugged. “A lot of names are shit names.”  
“ ‘Percy’ is a shit name,” Percy remarked. “And ‘Perseus’ is definitely a shit name, if Percy isn’t.”  
Jason did a very odd thing and rested his chin on Percy’s scalp for a fraction of a second—it was so quick that it was more like a push (which is probably what it was).  
“What do you want to do after this?”  
Percy moved to look at Jason. He didn’t even know what expression was on his own face. “There’s an ‘after this’?”  
Jason shrugged, and he almost looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, yeah… it’s the whole day, right?”  
“Y-yeah,” Percy stuttered. “Whole day. Right. Forgot. Sorry.”  
-  
“No fucking way.”  
Jason grinned, his free hand holding the door as him and Percy stepped inside. “Is it cliché if I say ‘yes fucking way’?”  
Percy answered, distracted but still sharp, “Very.”  
“Damn. Whatever. Yes fucking way, Percy, yes fucking way.”  
Percy basically dragged Jason to the corner of the store, ignoring the greeting from the clerk. Jason shouted one in reply before he was pushed behind a shelf.  
“Jay,”—that was the first time Percy had called Jason that in a while, but he only realized that after he’d said it—“you don’t get it.”  
Jason’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? Did I do something wrong? I thought you would like this place.”  
“No, Jay,”—he might as well stick with it—“I fucking love this place. This is… this is—”  
“—This is what?”  
“This is too good.”  
Jason looked significantly less disturbed, but he still said, “Why? What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing, nothing!” Percy only realized that he had been bouncing on his heels after Jason steadied him with a hand on each of his shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong. I… I want… can I hug you?”  
“…Yeah? Percy, if I freaked you out, you can tell—umph.” Jason was cut off by Percy’s free arm hooking around his neck, pulling him downward.  
“How’d you know about this place?” Percy whispered.  
When Jason answered, his voice was right next to Percy’s ear: “I don’t know. I thought it was just a normal skate shop… like, near the aquarium.”  
“Dude,” Percy said, letting Jason go (it really hadn’t been that long, but Percy felt like had it been much longer, it would’ve gotten weird for Jason). “This isn’t a skate shop. This is the skate shop. This is the place of my childhood.” He laughed. “Well, at least a pivotal point of the part that didn’t suck.”  
Jason surveyed the paraphernalia-covered walls, shelves, and display cases around them, looking slightly intimidated. “I don’t have that much to spend, but if you find something you like…”  
“Shut the fuck up, Grace.”  
Jason muttered a faint and surprised, “Jesus,” but he was already being ignored and dragged by an occupied Jackson to the nearest case.  
“I’m an independent citizen,” Percy mused, face incredibly close to the Plexiglas side of the case, “and can do with myself and spend my own money as I damn well please. I don’t mooch.”  
Jason jingled the cuffs between their hands. “Wow, independence sure is great, isn’t it?”  
“Sh.” Percy waved his hand, not even turning to look at Jason. “No sarcasm. Just boards.”  
Judging by the endeared, half-laugh that sounded from behind Percy, he could guess that Jason was smiling.  
“If I touch it,” Percy whispered after a few seconds of easy silence, “I am closer to it. But the glass gets smudged. Jason, this is a dilemma.”  
He hadn’t expected Jason to be listening, but Jason quipped in with, “Why don’t you ask Mister Tie Dye over there to let you look at it outside the case?”  
Percy turned to Jason with an expression akin to horror. “No,” he said, drawing out the vowel. “Absolutely not. A mortal does not approach a god and ask for petty favors.”  
“Okay, first of all, it’s not that hard to get the damn thing out of the case. Secondly, he looks like he’s going to be a counselor at Camp Denim. Calm down.”  
Percy tugged on Jason’s hand, although Jason hadn’t actually started to move.  
“Childhood boundaries,” Percy excused. He tugged Jason so both of their faces were close to the Plexiglas, Percy observing much more intently that Jason. “Now, look with me. It’s weird obsessing alone.”  
-  
Percy ended up not buying anything. Mainly because everything was so expensive, but also because it was nice to reminisce, but Percy was eight hundred percent sure that Percy Childhood Fashion was not a thing he wanted to revisit.  
As Percy (and most people his age) usually did, he hadn’t actually gotten food after breakfast. The pair had just eaten various snacks the entire day. It was a continuous string of salty carbs.  
Jason currently sat with a bag of salty carbs next to Percy, who had a bowl of sugary dairy. They were at a picnic table, at the aquarium again, overlooking the water behind said aquarium. Percy liked the location too much to comment.  
Percy didn’t normally take to waxing, romantic descriptions, but he felt that way about the scenery. There was nothing but a sparse fence separating him from the water. The water, speaking of, looked uncomfortably dark. Something that black just seemed to be labeled ‘deep, deep, deep…’ …it wasn’t Percy’s favorite of feelings.  
But it was okay. Lights flitted about on the surface of the water, and although they weren’t enough to illuminate the void, they still made it look a little less sinister.  
It wasn’t that Percy was afraid of water. Well, he was—deep water. Anything over ten or so feet (which he would admit was pathetic). But it wasn’t like he had a terrible childhood experience that made him forever terrified of water. He could swim one day, and everything was fine, and the next day he just… couldn’t.  
Not… couldn’t swim. He wasn’t sure if he could still swim. He had yet to try. But he didn’t want to find out, because he was afraid that he already knew the answer.  
Back in the present, Jason was looking at him. Percy knew that Jason was looking at him. Percy didn’t want to look back. Percy continued to stare at the water.  
Silence. A general, late-night, city type of feeling (tinged with anxiety).  
“You know,” Jason said. His tone was of the observer. “You haven’t asked me why I did this.”  
Percy set his bowl down. He had been done for ten minutes now, at least, and had just been using it as an excuse to not talk.  
He let out a short, huffish laugh. Things felt tense, and he didn’t know why. They hadn’t before.  
“I’m guessing it’s not because you’re trying to woo me,” he answered.  
Jason shrugged, and Percy saw out of the corner of his eye. “Nope,” Jason said.  
“Alright, then.”  
In Percy’s peripheral, Jason looked incredulous. “That’s it?”  
Percy nodded, his tongue in his cheek where Jason couldn’t see. “That’s it.”  
“Okay.”  
Silence. A general, late-night, city type of feeling (tinged with annoyance).  
Jason continued, maybe a minute later, maybe two. “Do you even want to know?”  
Percy shrugged. “You can tell me.”  
“I wanted…” Jason started. Percy finally turned to face him, and Jason swallowed.  
Jason continued, “I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t you.”  
For a second, Percy’s stomach traded places with his heart. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he didn’t like the sound of it. “What?”  
“I wanted to make sure that it was that stupid, tiny room. Not you.”  
“Make sure it…” Percy repeated.  
“Make sure that that room was what was driving me insane,” Jason said. “The fact that we were trapped in a space meant for two people, and big enough for half of one.”  
“Oh,” Percy said. He studied Jason for a moment. “And?”  
“It’s not you.”  
“Oh,” Percy said. He studied some more. “And?”  
“…That’s it.”  
“That’s it?”  
“That’s it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at all that gay (also this chapter is disproportionately long??? Idk why) Also, one of y'all should draw a president octopus. Maybe I'll do it. #Vladforpresident2016


	9. 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of advice: happiness is temporary.  
> Also: I got over myself and used italics. Wow.

            They slept with a towel over the pillow that night. They had gotten Rachel to take off the cuffs so they could shower. She had only agreed because she said they smelled like the worst part of the subway.

They were distant enough—and Percy felt lost enough—to look each other in the face when they finally lay down. Percy fell asleep long after Jason did.

Percy didn’t feel angry. He just felt… weird. Distant. He kept coming back to that word, distant. It was the best word to describe anything in that moment. He felt untied, unalive, unreal. Distant.

He knew that Jason wasn’t angry at him, either. Jason wasn’t passive aggressive, and he wasn’t silent. (That isn’t to say that he shouted or hit, either. He was just very… decisive.) So he wasn’t angry. He was distant.

Percy didn’t know why, when Jason was the one of them who had fucked up.

Nothing seemed to have changed. Had Percy been brave enough to be touching Jason—in any of the ways that they normally did—as they were going to sleep, Jason wouldn’t have pushed him away, or objected. Everything was exactly the same. But, at the exact same time, everything was distant.

Percy sighed, long and breathy and pathetic in the late-night silence. (In fact, the dorm building was unusually silent. There was no music from down the hall, or screaming, or even the usual scraping plumbing.) He needed to fucking sleep.

He felt untied, unalive, unreal. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t even awake, not if he thought about it.

He was staring at the ceiling.

“Night, Jason,” he said, although he knew that Jason couldn’t hear him. “Love you.”

-

            They both overslept.

            Granted, they really didn’t have anywhere to go, seeing that it was Sunday, but it was still weird for Percy to wake up at eleven thirty with Jason of all people still asleep next to him.

            When Jason finally did wake up, he didn’t say anything. Percy moved back to staring at the ceiling, and Jason seemed to think that that was the best option as well.

            There was an almost-silence, in which Percy listened to Jason’s breathing to calm down, but it was Jason that he was trying to calm down from.

            Eventually, Jason said, “Fuck this.”

            Percy turned to look at him, surprised. “What?”

            “I’m stuck with you for another nine days—or is it ten? I don’t know. Regardless, I can’t spend however many days it is just not talking to you. So fuck this. I need to get over myself.”

            Percy shrugged. Although, now that he thought about it, he was kind of angry at Jason. Which he hated, both because he was inescapably connected to Jason, and because his brain didn’t really know what to do when it wasn’t constantly fawning over him. “I don’t even know what’s wrong. Maybe… maybe this is the ‘breaking point’ that Rachel was talking about? Like, in the experiment.”

            Jason shook his head. He sat up, pulling Percy after him. “Are you kidding me? If I wasn’t being such a standoffish dick, we’d be fine right now. …We’re going to finish this.”

            Percy let himself smile a little, mostly at the pure amount of enthusiasm Jason had. He had looked Percy right in the eye, and put his hand on Percy’s shoulder like he had just told Percy that he intended to find the New World.

            Jason just kept staring at Percy, still so determined. Percy was suddenly laughing. And Jason was laughing; the whole thing was so completely and incredibly stupid that they couldn’t stop laughing.

            The whole experience was so absolutely dumb that Percy didn’t really care about or understand any of it. He just let his forehead drop onto Jason’s shoulder, which was shaking with laughter anyway, and just giggled—uncontrollable, breathy, silent.

            “Fuck,” Percy said. “Okay.”

            He leaned back from Jason’s shoulder, and they were still both laughing. It would’ve been awkward had one of them not been laughing, but they both were, and they were both lost, so Percy didn’t think Jason noticed.

            Percy leaned forward again, his laughing quieting down, more just a sense of complete calm, yet also buzzing. (Maybe that’s what being high felt like?) His eyes were closed, and his forehead hit Jason’s. He froze.

            So then they weren’t laughing out loud anymore, but instead just sitting, in the silent room, being silent, foreheads pressed softly together and just being. Just being and pretending that this wasn’t a weird thing to do. Percy was just being and pretending that he wasn’t actually dying inside.

            “Your hand,” Jason said, his eyes cast down, “is tied to my hand.”

            “An astounding conclusion.”

            Jason’s nose, although Percy could barely see it from his place so close to Jason, scrunched up. “…I really don’t mind it.”

            “You’re supposed to.”

            “I don’t.”

            Silence. Then Percy said, “You might by day fourteen.”

            Jason shrugged, and his forehead moved against Percy’s. Neither of them had moved, and Percy didn’t have the intention of doing so any time soon.

            Jason closed his eyes, leaning even more forward than he had been. Percy felt almost triumphant that he wasn’t the tired one for once.

            “Jay,” Percy said, but Jason’s eyes didn’t open. “We have to go live a life, I think.”

            “Do we?”

            “Hard to believe you have one, I know,” Percy responded. Jason jabbed a finger into the closest part of Percy, which ended up being his kneecap.

            “Shut up. And we don’t, not really. I don’t have any obligations.”

            “Well… neither do I, but…”

            Jason prompted, “But…?”

            “But it’s weird to just be sitting here.”

            Jason cracked a dry smile. “I think it’s weird to do pretty much everything we’ve done in this experiment. We can basically do whatever we want.”

            “It can’t get worse than the worst.”

            Jason’s smile brightened. “Exactly. …Although I wouldn’t call this the worst.”

            “You’re not in my position.” Jason jabbed him again.

            The dorm was less silent now, as someone had just gotten home (or, more likely, just woken up) and was fumbling around somewhere on the floor above them. A few seconds later, music started drifting down the halls.

            It took Percy a bit to figure out exactly what the song was, but Jason had apparently come to the same conclusion at almost exactly the same time—as he met Percy’s eyes and the two had a very difficult straight-face contest until they both burst out laughing.

            “That’s—”

            “—We Got the Funk, yep.”

            Jason was already quieting down. He was still in that stage of half-laugh, half bite-your-lip. “But _…_ why?”

            Percy shrugged. “I guess he just… needs the Funk.”

            “I need the Funk, Percy.”

            “You do need the Funk, Jason.”

            The first time through, it was funny. There were a few instances where Percy caught Jason mouthing the words. There were a few instances where they both actively mouthed the words. The second time, it was annoying. The third time, it was angering, the fourth time was droning, and the fifth time was hilarious just because it was the _fifth time._ That makes thirty-five minutes of the Funk.

            The music shut off. There were a few thumping and scraping sounds from the floor above. A door opened, shut, and there were heavy footsteps. Then it was silent.

            “I think…” Percy said, grinning, “that he has the Funk.”

            “He’d better,” Jason said, and Percy couldn’t help but think he sounded a little like a grandpa. “That remix was twice as long as the original.”

            Percy laughed. “He needed a lot of the Funk.”

            “Shut up.”

            Percy was laughing so hard that he almost couldn’t talk when he said, “I think you meant, ‘shut the Funk up’.”

            Jason made a sarcastically disgusted noise and shook his head. “Shut the Funk up, yeah, basically.”

            “Got it.”

            Percy thought they were just going to go on their merry ways (well, way,

singular), and live their lives, but after a few beats of silence, Jason’s eyebrows drew close, and he looked at Percy, confused.

            “So, what was wrong earlier?”

            Percy didn’t really know how to respond. He took it slow, cautious, which wasn’t really like him in most situations. “Nothing?” (Flat out bullshit) “I just… nothing. You weren’t sick of me, so…” he sighed. Apparently his ‘slow’ wasn’t slow enough. “Nothing.”

            Jason looked even more perplexed, if possible. “I’m honestly sorry if I offended you—really.” (Jason Grace, ever sweet.) “But I don’t know what I did. Did you _want_ me to be sick of you?”

            _Nonononononononono,_ Percy’s stomach started to curdle.

            Jason looked like he actually wanted an answer. Percy sighed.

            “You didn’t…” (take it slow, don’t fuck up) “… _offend_ me.”

            “The way you said that makes me think you’re mad at me.” (Jason Grace, ever honest.)

            Percy repeated, “You didn’t offend me.”

            “Then what did I do?”

            “You…” (Percy: remember, take it slow, don’t be obvious) “…screwed with me…?” (Dammit.)

            “What?” Jason’s expression was a pitiful combination of confused, concerned, and apologetic. “How?”

            Percy sighed again. “Never mind. Nothing.”

            Jason rolled his eyes—full-fledged this time, meaning he was considerably annoyed. “Look,” he said and shook his wrist, making the cuff chains jingle, “if we’re chained together, you need to talk to me.”

            Apparently Percy wasn’t capable of being slow and cautious (he had tried. He really had.) “I don’t _want_ to talk to you.”

            “That’s not my problem.”

            “You know what is your problem?” Percy was basically growling, and he wasn’t even registering his own tone of voice. “Being an asshole. Messing with people. Fucking them up. That’s your fucking problem, Jason.”

            “What did I even _do_?”

            “Nothing!”

            Jason flinched at the raise in Percy’s voice. Percy continued, “ _Nothing._ You didn’t do anything, and that’s the point. Nothing. That’s it.”

            Jason still looked confused. When he spoke, his voice was cautious and quiet. “Percy, I’m trying to understand. But I can’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            Percy just repeated, “That’s it.”

            Jason stared at Percy for a substantial amount of time.

            Percy stared back.

            Finally, Percy saw in Jason’s expression that the realization of what Percy meant had dawned on him. Jason’s expression shifted to one akin to anger, but not quite there. “This is about _yesterday_? That was a day ago! Why weren’t you pissed then?” Then his face shifted to something close to hurt. “I was _nice_ to you yesterday. Like, I actually tried to—”

            “I know,” Percy cut off. “I know. Yesterday was… great. It’s…” he paused, “not your fault. It’s mine.”

            Jason then went back to perplexed. “Did you just say, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? What are we doing, breaking up?”

            Percy’s fists clenched. “Might as well be.”

            Jason moved to incredulous. “What is that even supposed to _mean_?”

            Percy stared, trying to think of what to say. In truth, he didn’t know what it was supposed to mean. It was supposed to mean that he was angry, and that he was frustrated, and that he was sick of this, sick of this, sick of this. Sick of wanting Jason, sick of Jason so obviously not wanting him back, and he was so fucking sick of having to be so close to it all the time.

            Everything was so _close_.

            All of these thoughts passed in the fraction of a second before Jason continued, “Why are you angry at me? How did I mess with you?”

            _So. Fucking. Close._

Jason was still talking, and Percy felt like curling into a ball.

Jason was still talking, Jason was still talking, Jason was still—“ _Stop_ ,” Percy muttered. Well, he had intended it to be a mutter. When he actually registered what he’d said and what he was doing… he had his free hand on the back of his neck, and forehead pressed into his knees, legs folded close to his chest. His voice had come out as more of a whine.

Jason stopped talking, and Percy slowly looked up. Jason’s expression was completely indecipherable. He looked like he was almost ashamed of himself, but at the same time, still angry at Percy, still confused, and somewhat… afraid.

Jason, quiet this time, said, “We’re going to Rachel.”

           

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND NEXT EPISODE ON: CLUELESS BOYS FALL IN LOVE. Will they continue to be jerks? Will they end the Contact Project? Will they overcome their anger and stick it out to the end??? I have it all planned, TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO FIND OUT!!!


	10. 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo that took forever please don't hate me (no but seriously: my gal pal's life is messed up and I am Trying My Best to Help.)

            Immediately, Percy wanted to take back everything he’d said.

            Quitting then, when they were only halfway through, would be pathetic.

            He didn’t speak up, though, so he was now being dragged silently towards Rachel’s room by a very melancholy Jason.

            Percy didn’t expect Rachel to be home. She was normally at galleries, non-academic classes, or exhibits at this time of day. However, music was slipping out of her room, pulsing and electronic, and when Jason rapped on the door, she opened it, looking happy at first—splattered in paint, hair tied back, in nothing but a baggy gray tshirt—but her expression turned confused when she saw the look on their faces.

            “Guys?”

            Jason didn’t offer an explanation. He just said, “We need you to take the handcuffs off.”

            Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, looking almost smug. “Did you think this through? Because I guarantee that if you wait a couple of hours, you’ll—”

            “—No,” Jason said, “they’re coming off now.”

            Rachel paused, and they all stared at each other for a few seconds. Jason wouldn’t meet Percy’s eyes. She shrugged. “…Fine. I’ll get the key.”

            She went back into the room, coming out a few seconds later. She gestured for the cuffs, unlocking Percy’s first.

            He’d been uncuffed maybe three times before then, but it felt strangely more official now. Maybe it was because they were all silent. Maybe it was because Jason wouldn’t look at him. Maybe it was because he just felt so _empty_.

            “Okay,” Rachel said. “You’re done. Should I interview you now or…?”

            No one said anything, but Rachel trailed off anyway. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

            Jason headed for the stairs without another word.

            After he was gone, Rachel turned to Percy.

            “Would… would you mind being interviewed?” she asked. She sounded almost like she was about to cry, which wasn’t like her at all.

            Percy was about to refuse, but Rachel looked pretty put down. It dawned on Percy that Rachel probably thought that this was all her fault.

Percy shook his head. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go.”

-

            Percy, honestly, was very disappointed. Jason didn’t show up for interviews the next day, which wasn’t like him at all (nobody seemed to be acting like themselves, did they?), and didn’t talk to either of them for the next two days.

            Percy, instead, had to hang out with just Rachel. Which really wasn’t bad, it was just so much better when there were three people to fill silence instead of just two.

            This was all accompanied by a truth he didn’t want to acknowledge: he really fucking missed Jason.

_MON 01:26 AM to: Jay— look i get that you dont wanna talk to me but i think rach would like it if we started the project again_

**_Send message? Y/N_ **

**_Send message: N_ **

**_~Message not sent~_ **

**_Save message? Y/N_ **

**_Save message: Y_ **

**_~Message saved/stored for the next 30 days~_ **

_TUE 03:43 AM to: Jay—_

            Percy sighed. He felt like throwing his phone across the room.

_WED 02:11 AM to: Jay— man i dont even care if we start the project i just want to see you again_

**_Send message? Y/N_ **

**_Send message: N_ **

**_~Message not sent~_ **

**_Delete message? Y/N_ **

**_Delete message: Y_ **

**_~Message deleted~_ **

No matter how much he wanted to, Percy wouldn’t let himself type the words ‘I miss you’—that was admitting defeat. Even though he didn’t really care. He didn’t care at all. He’d already lost half of his friends; he already felt defeated.

            No matter how much he wanted, Percy wouldn’t let himself type the words ‘I miss you’—but that didn’t mean he didn’t think them _all the fucking time_.

_THURS 02:49 AM to: Jay— i mis_

            Percy backspaced.

**_Cancel message? Y/N_ **

**_Cancel message: Y_ **

**_~Message Cancelled~_ **

Percy sat up, completely ignoring his phone—it made him want to do stupid things, anyway—and rubbed at his eyes. He sighed. It was three fuckin’ AM. He felt the urge to do something completely stupid. Not _because_ it was stupid. Although it most definitely, completely was.

            His idea was stupid. Not seeing Jason was stupid. Being awake at three AM _because_ he wasn’t seeing Jason was stupid… Was that why he was still awake? It felt like it. Percy hated how it felt. He hated it even more than he had hated being near Jason—which really, he didn’t hate at all. He was so—he was so fucking _confused_.

            Percy looked down. He was gripping the edge of his bed, apparently, and his knuckles were white and aching.

            He breathed out, harsh and long. Sorting through his thoughts was something he hated. (Oh, look, more hate.) But it was the only way to stop feeling so completely hopeless.

            _Number one_ , Percy thought, _I feel like shit._

Okay, good. Continue.

            _Why do I feel like shit? Because I miss Jason._

And why is that?

            _Because… Jason is my best friend. And I love him._

Fan-fucking-tastic.

            _And I hate…_

Percy’s shoulders were shaking.

            _I hate—_

—Breathe.

            _I hate…_

Percy hugged his knees close to his chest and rested his chin on them. He sighed.

            _Everything._

            He rolled back onto the mattress, having done nothing but made himself feel more pathetic. He was so incredibly done with emotions.

            …He still wanted to do something completely stupid.

Percy sat up, grabbing his phone and dropping it as soon as he stood (mostly so he wouldn’t get the urge to do something else completely stupid).

            He was about to do something completely stupid.


	11. 11

Percy couldn’t decipher Jason’s expression when he opened the door.

He also couldn’t decipher what Jason said, which was a very cautious “… Hey.”

“Yeah,” Percy said, his voice coming out clipped and almost sarcastic, “hey.”

Jason cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “ah, come in.”

Percy could almost feel himself smirk. As much as he missed Jason, he also couldn’t help feeling completely pissed at him. He also couldn’t help feeling more than completely triumphant when Jason was looking uncomfortable faced with what he had been ignoring.

Jason stood awkwardly next to the doorway.

Percy stared at Jason from the center of the room, feeling expectant, his arms crossed over his chest.

Percy realized that now that he was here, he had no idea what he was going to do. He had absolutely no plan.

“I guess I sh—”

“—You’re wearing earrings,” Jason blurted. He shifted from his place in the doorway, somehow managing to look even more uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Percy said, “I am.” He felt strangely rebellious having just remembered the small disks of dark plastic on his ears, although there really wasn't any reason to rebel, or anything to rebel against. (He was mainly just thinking: why does Jason care? Why should Jason care?)

Jason’s hands were half-concealed in denim pockets—he’d switched back to jeans, then—and Percy almost missed the stalling swallow that signaled the extent of Jason’s discomfort when he looked down at the carpet.

“They”—Jason glanced down again—“they look nice.”

“Thanks.” He hated this.

Jason stared at the ground, and Percy stared at Jason.

He hated this. He hated silence.

Typically, even though Percy wasn’t too talkative of a person, he had music playing, or someone talking (although he wouldn’t be paying attention) or ate least ambience.

But there was nothing. Only the sound of his breathing becoming less and less steady.

“Look,” he said. “I can’t just stand here.”

Jason finally met his eyes. “What?”

“Like,” Percy gestured vaguely around him, “silence. I can’t do it.”

Jason smiled, small and melancholy, and said, “Right. Forgot you don’t like it.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping through it for a few seconds before something tinny and slow started dripping from it.

“Speakers are shit,” Percy commented.

Jason didn’t answer, just placed the phone on the desk a few feet away.

“So,” he said, actually taking a step away from the door that time and entering the space that would be called a decent conversation range with Percy. “Why’re you here?”

And there it was. Percy’s no plan, no strategy, no exit. He had to talk.

“The project,” he started, taking a nerve-driven step forward, and immediately cursed himself. He had never been good at going slow.

Jason, instead of moving back, took the smallest step forward. That meant that Percy had annoyed him. Percy cursed himself again in his head.

Jason, guarded, asked, “What about it?”

“We should”—Percy pulled a Jason and looked at the floor, then made himself look back up—“we should…”

Jason softened at Percy’s discomfort, like Percy had come to know him to, and gave a slight, “What?” more of a prompt than an interrogation.

“Start it,” Percy choked out. “Again.”

Jason opened his mouth, and before he could protest, Percy added, “for Rachel.”

_For me._

Jason looked conflicted, like he was stuck between handling Percy like glass and completely refusing. Percy could see which one he wanted to do.

Jason looked almost pitying.

He hated this.

Finally, Jason said, “Percy, I don’t think—”

“—Why?” Percy cut off. He was feeling a little hysterical. He lifted his hands from his sides slightly and just repeated, “Why.”

More silence.

He hated this.

“ ‘Cause I couldn’t do it,” Jason said, and his voice was surrender.

“Sure,” Percy said, and he flinched at his own voice: a terrible mixture of sarcasm and hurt. He repeated, “Sure. You’ve known me what—four years? Five? And you just now decided you can’t stand me? Thanks, Jason. Thanks for that. Makes me all fucking warm and fuzzy inside, finding out that I never actually had a fucking best friend.”

“Percy,” Jason said, sounding exasperated. “That’s not it. At all. We _are_ friends.”

Before Jason continued, Percy shot in, “Right.”

Jason had never been ‘cut off’—Percy just took advantage of his minuscule pause. Jason said, “Best friends.”

Percy gave a sharp output of breath. He was not accomplishing what he went there to do, and as much as he wanted to blame it on Jason, he couldn’t help but acknowledge that it was mostly his fault.

Percy turned to leave, but Jason grabbed his shoulders.

“No, seriously. None of this is your fault.” Jason sounded almost desperate. “And we are. We’re best friends. ”

Percy stared at him: face cast in half-shadow from the only lighting in the room—the lamp on Jason’s desk. Blue eyes. The little scar above his upper lip from eating a stapler of all things. His front teeth scraping his bottom lip nervously until the skin peeled.

Percy stared at Jason: his expression completely void of anger, spite, untruth. He was searching Percy’s expression wildly, savagely. Percy couldn’t not look him in the eye. He felt like he ignored Jason, if he didn’t look at this, the world might actually end.

Jason’s hands were light on Percy’s shoulders, but they felt, for a moment, like vices. Jason’s fingers were shaking.

Percy’s voice was quiet, but not inaudible. The timbre of his voice had been dyed threadish, cold, and silver. It was a raw question that he asked, a vulnerable one. A loaded one.

“That’s it?”

Jason moved his head in some way, either a nod or a shiver of his jaw. And although neither of them was talking, the question hung in the air so heavy that it was like it was still being asked.

_That’s it?_

And then Jason kissed him.


	12. 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A letter to the recurring commenters:  
> y'all are fuckin awesome
> 
> (well all the people who read my stories are awesome i love all of you)
> 
> but you guys**  
> are the bomb  
> thank
> 
> (and yes. for those of you wondering, my girlfriend is on a much better path, and im *mostly* out of my horrendous depressive episode, and have gotten over the majority of my suicidal existential crisis. so im doing okayish. which is way way better than i couldve said a few days ago. i totally intend to finish tcp and write many many more things is the future)
> 
> **i use guys as a gender neutral term but if youre not comfortable with that then i revise it to "guys, gals, and nonbinary pals"
> 
> anyway here's... whatever this is

            Percy had long known that silence was a monster, a sickness, a rising dread.

            Really, since sound had waves and was matter, silence was an absence of being. It couldn’t be something terrifying, not when you first thought about it.

            But absence was truly the most terrifying prospect of all.

            Silence, Percy realized (staring with wide eyes at the boy who looked just as scared of absence as he did), was destructive. It was an absence, sure, but it still knew how to take. Absence caused absence.

            A prime example of this destruction, of this absence created by absence, was when Percy ducked around Jason as quickly as he could and left the room.

-

            Walking as fast as he could without running (running was obvious; running meant… well, it meant _running_ ), Percy turned the corner just as he heard the call of, “ _Perce_ ,” followed by, “Percy, wait!”

            He didn’t wait; Jason wasn’t the type to follow him. He went for the stairwell.

            His room was empty, thank fucking God, and he shut the door behind him. The sound wasn’t loud enough.

            His bed was unmade, like it usually was, but for some reason the sight annoyed him. He didn’t bother to fix it, though, and instead sat on the edge, pulled his knees up close to his face, and buckled his hands behind his head.

            It was reminiscent of a tornado drill back in public school—and it was, really, wasn’t it? Preparing for the storm.

            Percy pressed his forehead into the caps of his knees and waited. Waited for his mind to keep tracing back to his lips, for his heart to stop racing, for his ribs to stop shaking, for his head to stop swirling.

            He was crying, slightly, for no discernible reason. Nor did he really care. He couldn’t figure anything out.

            Quiet, tearful, give-away breaths filled the silence, which might’ve embarrassed some of Percy’s peers. But he had long known that silence was a monster.

            He felt angry, but he didn’t know why. He was crying, but he didn’t know why. He wanted to sleep, because he was tired. (Or maybe he was tired because he wanted to sleep.)

-

            When Percy woke up—not anywhere close to a respectable time—he had a pounding headache and a seemingly newfound sense of rationality.

            Taking advantage of this new sense of rationality, Percy realized a few things.

One, he had totally just walked out on Jason after the other boy had kissed him.

Two, he had completely overreacted. (Not just the night before. This, of course, had been something that Percy was already well aware of, but had not really wanted to confront.)

The third was that while he liked to believe that Jason had been completely aware of his actions and their repercussions for the past debacle, and that it was entirely Jason’s own wrongdoings, he now had fully come to realize that Jason had mostly likely _completely fucking not,_ and it ended up being none other than Percy’s own fault in actuality.

And that was nothing short of both needed and terrible.

Of course, realizing that something completely awful to experience is in fact _their own fault_ is something that makes someone both feel like shit, and gain a burning _need_ to set things right. This burning need was only made worse by Percy’s incurable sense of justice for his friends. (But apparently not justice for himself.)

So it was at three forty-six AM that Percy found himself trekking to Jason’s dorm room for the second time in twenty-four hours.

For the second time as well, he also got the sense that he was doing something incomprehensibly stupid.

Percy’s confidence started to chip away when he closed the door behind him and faced the dismal, night-lit university hallway. It crumbled like the fortress of a fallen king as he climbed the stairwell, listening to his steps spell out what he was already painfully aware of: he was walking into a potentially dangerous situation quite unarmed and very, very alone. His confidence was nothing more than a little bit of dust at his feet when he reached the door to Jason’s room. There was light leaking out from under the door, and Percy was surprised that he was able to scrounge up enough courage to knock.

No one opened the door, but Jason did call—quite neutrally—a soft, “Come in. s’unlocked.”

Percy _knew_ that it was unlocked, because he had broken the lock himself two months before. So Percy’s stomach was flipping around as he came to the realization that Jason very likely didn’t know that it was him, and that Jason was very likely to be unpleasantly surprised, and what miniscule confidence that Percy had left—his small, dusty anthill—was immediately disbanded.

Jason put out a quietly confused, “Hello?”

It was _four fucking AM._

 

Percy opened the door.

Percy had not anticipated this.

Percy had not prepared for this.  
            Percy was not sure how he felt about this.

Jason was not behaving as Jason should—in the parameters of Percy’s brain—and Percy suddenly felt like he had been very over-dramatic.

Jason was lying down, one arm behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Completely relaxed, seemingly, and completely nonchalant.

Everything in Percy stilled.

Percy leaned against the doorway, looking in, not really being _there._ He was a spectator, and tricking himself into believing that he was only watching made him able to simply speak.

“I’m…” his mouth threatened to freeze up, but he pushed the last word out, “…sorry.” He finished; the words broke a barrier. Jason looked over, and in that moment everything became both very much better and extremely worse. It was quite evident, looking Jason in the eyes, his entire expression perfectly clear for Percy to take in, that he wasn’t (in fact) casual. Instead, Jason, too, wasn’t quite _there_. Jason, too, was coping by refusing to exist.

Everything was terrible.

Instead of accepting, refusing, or anything of the sort—instead of speaking at all—Jason simply stared for a few moments (he hadn’t even bothered to sit up) before moving slightly closer to the wall and patting the place next to him on his bed.

So Percy crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, not saying anything, and feeling like the worst semi-real person in the world. He stared straight ahead, wondering when and if this strange period of accidental half-torture would ever end, when Jason’s fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist. The wrist he was leaning on to support himself.

Percy took his first glance down at Jason then, and didn’t know what to make of what exactly he saw. Closed eyes, stricken skin, and a determined expression. Jason tugged Percy’s supporting hand out from under him. Percy tumbled into Jason’s torso.

He was sick of pulling away from contact; he found the most comfortable way to sling his arm across Jason’s stomach, the best place to put his head. (It happened to be in that strange, side of torso, half shoulder, half chest place, with Jason’s other arm curling around the back of Percy’s shoulders.)

The awkward mood was crushed. Not because either of them had done anything to fix it. Percy suspected it was just that they were both _so fucking tired_ of it.

One of Jason’s hands (Percy couldn’t tell which one, his eyes were closed) tangled in Percy’s hair. “I thought you were mad at me,” he murmured.

His voice wasn’t accusatory. It wasn’t even really questioning. It was just a fact.

“I still am, really.”

Jason was silent for a few moments. Percy could hear his heartbeat fly under Percy’s ear, the fabric of Jason’s clothing, the skin of Jason’s chest. “Then what the hell are we doing?”

Percy shrugged, pushing his cheek into the over-washed soft fabric of Jason’s sweatshirt. “Fuck if I know. What are we doing, ever?”

They let it go. Percy thought it was awful fighting with the only person he normally would go to when he was fighting with someone. This, their simple contact, could be a cure. But what about when it was the sickness? Percy balled up a fistful of the fabric of Jason’s shirt, squeezing it so tightly the muscles in his fingers ached.

-

            Jason shook him awake, Percy glanced at the clock. Only four twenty-one. He almost wanted to growl at Jason like he would typically, until he became aware of two things: one, he was currently existing with Jason on very, very thin ice, and two, he saw the look on Jason’s face.

            Almost urgently, Jason said, “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t say that earlier. Dick move. Sorry. But I am.”

            Percy takes a few seconds to answer, and when he does, his response is nothing less than stupid. “…I know.” He mentally decked himself. He sounded like an _asshole_. So he added, hastily, “But you don’t have any reason to be.”

            That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. (Again.) Jason responded with, “Then why are you still mad at me?”

            Percy opened his mouth to answer, then his voice died. So he closed his mouth. Then he gathered speech again and opened his mouth. Then it died, he closed his mouth, sighed, and sat up.

            He took a deep breath. He had to take another one once Jason followed suit in sitting up. Jason still looked relaxed, sleep-mussed. Percy felt anything but.

            Jason was watching Percy fidget, almost looking _amused._ So Percy gave a small glare of faux-disgust and closed his eyes.

            “Because…” he stopped, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Then he remembered that Jason was watching him. And what Jason might think. So he raked his teeth over his lip instead. “Because the project started and everything was good—great, actually.” He had to stop there, gather a breath (because if he didn’t say it all in one try, he might never be able to get any of it out), and clench and unclench his fists. He felt ready. Ish. “And then there was that whole day where I thought I might be something more—” Percy stopped, choking on his own spit. Fuck his nervous habits. He ignored Jason’s small huff, forcing himself to swallow, breathe, keep his eyes closed, and continue. “I thought I might be something _more_ than—than a friend to you but when I tried to bring it up you just shot it down like it should be _obvious_ and I just felt like shit—but then I overreacted so I guess I’m more mad at _myself.”_ He laughed the tiniest bit then, finally catching a chance to breathe and adding, “Like that’s a surprise,” below his breath. He opened his eyes subconsciously. He also kept them down once he realized he had done it in the first place, gluing them to Jason’s navy sheets.

            “But,” Percy managed, “but then you ignored me.” He was forcing himself to speak slower, to not run all of his words together. He normally had trouble getting words from his brain to his mouth, and then even more trouble having them exit from him entirely, so this flood was a surprise. “So I didn’t know what to think.” He paused. Then he continued, “And then you kissed me. So that literally changed everything. And it was the best thing ever, so—” he cut himself off with his own breathy, desperate laughter. “—Fuck!”

            There was Percy Jackson, laid completely bare. Well, not completely. Did an insinuation count as a confession? Percy wasn’t sure, and honestly wasn’t quite sure whether than he wanted to figure it out.

            He met Jason’s eyes. Jason bit his bottom lip as his face broke into a smile.

            Jason’s reaction to Percy’s distressed flood was more than a little confusing. He didn’t look offended, and he didn’t interrupt. He didn’t even look concerned, which was the main emotion Percy had come for Jason to show. He just kept smiling, eventually saying, “Okay.”

            He pulled Percy forward by the shoulder, bumping their foreheads together; something they’d done a million times. Percy let more of his slight, nervous laughter escape.

            Percy said, or more realistically, he interjected, “I’m really confused right now.”

            Jason just responded with, “That makes two of us.” He then half-dropped the smile, settling for something more along the lines of _indecipherable._ He shrugged. “So we’re both over-dramatic fucks.”

            Percy added, his eyes now open and their foreheads touching without fear, “Who overreact.”

            “And think they’re too good to apologize.”

            “And say the worst fucking things.”

            “And forget that they’re best friends.”

            Percy shifted his eyes down. Then he shifted them back up. He repeated something he had said before, less than a day ago. But his timbre was completely different, there was no urgency, or defeat. He simply wanted to clarify. “That’s it?”

            Jason brought the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, his face almost too close to Percy’s for the other boy to see. He said, quiet, “I don’t think you want it to be.”

            Percy answered almost inaudibly—even at the distance they were sitting, even to himself, “…I don’t.”

            Jason’s nod was borderline undetectable. “Alright. So it’s not.”

            The goosebumps that raised on Percy’s arm when Jason’s fingers flitted around his wrist made him feel very exposed. He wanted to break his eyes away from Jason’s as the other boy barely even touched Percy’s hand, guiding it to his own shoulder. Percy’s hand settled in the meld, right between Jason’s shoulder and neck.

            Jason’s eyes were impossibly close.

            Percy said, and this time he was sure he hadn’t really spoken because although his lips moved he felt no air go through them and couldn’t hear his own speech, “Alright.”

            Kissing Jason this time was better, slow, probably because although Percy’s brain had mostly been frozen, both parties were aware that it was going to happen. They were on the same page; nothing was at stake.

            He didn’t taste like much, at least not anything special, and his lips were ragged and nervously bitten against Percy’s, but everything that made Percy a mentally functioning human had run away without him. He was just _there_ , Jason’s neck plated softly under his palm; he could feel that both of their pulses were quickened and alive. The nape of Jason’s neck under Percy’s fingertips, the slight tracings of where soft pale hair began.

            The soft sound of breaking away, the softer sound of breath filled what could’ve been silence.

            Jason’s eyes weren’t wide like the last time, and as far as Percy could feel of himself, he didn’t look terrified. Regardless, there was a silent agreement, Percy’s arm having slipped around the back of Jason’s neck, of _talk later._

            Jason tilted forward; they were both less reserved, the very great closeness of Jason making Percy feel like he was close to enveloped, calm even as Jason’s lips slipped very deliberately to his jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify the reason this took so diddly darn heckin long, is because this is the fouRTH VerSIoN of this chapter that i've written. im v sorry that it took so long, i just wanted to make it v good and as emotionally real as i could. sorry if you think thats dumb ^_^ its just that writing is p much my life.
> 
> Also the ending is a little oddly paced?? ye im aware of that. this originally had an extra 1k or so words on the end, but i thought that would just be way wayyy too long. im currently finishing that up and editing the next (and probs last) chapter rn, so that'll *probably* be up soonish??


	13. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye it's short but I think short conclusions are the best anyway.

            Neither of them ever treated any of it like a big deal after that, at least not out loud. It really wasn’t (at least not out loud).

            There was nothing stopping them from doing anything, nothing to keep them from doing whatever they wanted, in fact, and that was the part that Percy silently regarded as the _biggest_ of big deals.

            The biggest of big deals, to Percy at least, was that nothing was forbidden. It was commonplace, expected, that he wouldn’t panic if Jason ever touched him (heaven forbid put an arm—or unspeakably two—around him).

            He wasn’t supposed to find his fingers shaking if he ever laid his palm against the fabric of Jason’s shirt. He wasn’t supposed to value the feeling of Jason’s throat pulsing both softly and wildly under Percy’s light and tentative lips like it might be the last time such a thing ever happened, because there was no reason to think that, but he did, every single time.

            Percy was sure (or at least could convince himself, most days) that Jason felt the same way. But Jason wore it so much better.

            Nothing was forbidden, and Percy didn’t know if he could quite handle it that way, at least not yet.

            He could get used to it, though, and he would.

            Percy started to become used to it when Jason entered his room, eleven-thirty at night, maybe, mid January, and simply dropped his bag just inside Percy’s doorframe. He’d stripped off his snow-flecked jacket before wordlessly joining Percy on his bed.

            “I think I might be dying,” Jason announced, but his voice was already half-muffled in a combination of Percy’s shoulder and the pillow it was cramped against.

            Percy continued scrolling, the browser window hiding what homework he actually had to do underneath it.

            “Figuratively,” Jason added. Then he reconsidered. “Well, maybe literally, but probably not.”

            Percy’s first response was “Hm,” followed by, “we’re all dying, Jay.”

            Silence.

            Percy grinned, then said, “Please explain.” He shut his laptop. He wasn’t doing anything worthwhile, anyway.

            “Just, psychology is terrible. I can’t believe Rach convinced me to take that class.” At this point, Percy was laughing, even as Jason continued to say, “There are so many things about me that I did _not_ want to discover. Not to mention that she has to present her experiment soon. My class group is going to watch the presentations of her ‘professional’ class.”

            “What’s she decided the call it.”

            “ ‘The Contact Project’ or something.”

            “Edgy.”

            Jason practically snorted.

            Jason, Percy had always noticed (thought about, stared at, occasionally commented on) had sharp features. Although, with his face scrunched up against Percy’s shoulder, he had an uncanny resemblance to a teddy bear. Percy reached over to run his fingertips through soft blond hair that was growing longer from its old quiffish military cut.

            “I assume you’re staying here, then,” Percy commented drily.

            Jason didn’t answer for a few seconds. Then his eyes opened, and he said almost groggily, “What? Yeah, I was hoping for that.”

            “You need to change shirts, then,” Percy said. “Yours is soaked. I can _feel_ the mold growing.”

            Jason rolled off Percy’s side, sitting up and finally seeming to notice the massive amount of melted snow down the front of his shirt. He never remembered to zip his jacket, but he never was wearing one, although he always planned to. On a completely unrelated note, Percy never wore anything over his old skate and summer camp tshirts, no matter the temperature, at least not outside.

            “I’ve instilled some sense of organization in you,” Jason commented, only on the verge of sarcastic. He slipped his shirt over his head and laid back down, eyes already closing, hair pre-ruffled, the tops of his high English cheekbones dyed gray with a lack of sleep.

            “Heater’s broken,” Percy said, disbelieving. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

            Jason opened one eye. “Your room, too? Damn.”

            Percy smiled then, Jason’s eyes back to being closed, and said, “S’why my back hurts so much. I swear I’m only one year older.”

            Jason was silent for a few moments, and Percy thought that maybe he had fallen asleep again. He had a habit of losing consciousness at the most random and inconvenient moments. But, no, because a few seconds later Jason said, “God, it _is_ cold.”

            Percy didn’t spend time laughing. Instead, he curled, not particularly wanting or needing blankets, and settled his head on his decided place between Jason’s shoulder and chest.

            Jason breathed out, and Percy’s pulse was slow and addictive.

-

            Percy started to become used to it when nights like this became normal, when nights where the bottom edges of palms and the barest tips of fingers could skirt and drag and whisper and go on for hours and neither cared when or if it would ever end, and neither really wanted it to.

            Nights where Percy would laugh about trying to hide the condition of the skin around his collarbone the next morning, nights where they probably slept through the first class of the next day (if it was one of Jason’s important lectures, it was debatable).

-

            Percy started to become used to it on a morning that Jason woke him up, yawning and stretching like a cat next to him—they didn’t usually end up in the same room before they fell asleep, it just happened on the important occasions. At least, that’s what Percy told Shane, who happened to finally use their room whenever Jason was there.

            “Presentation,” Jason said, his voice still thick with sleep and disuse.

            Percy, still mostly asleep himself, responded with, “What?”

            “Rachel’s presentation. On us. You still want to go, right?”

            Percy covered his recently-caught yawn with a fist, nodding.

            “Starts in five minutes,” Jason said, “we should go.”

            Percy jumped. “Jesus fuck, Jason.” He climbed around Jason to get to his closet, changing clothes as fast as he could and really not minding Jason watching. Jason, who had no new clothes, just laced his shoes on, then sat waiting.

-

            “I will admit,” Rachel said to the auditorium of psychology students (plus one genealogy student and one professor), “my study didn’t go quite as planned, but I find that to be an interesting insight into not only the persistence and strength of the human mind, but also the resilience.”

            She met Percy’s eyes over the tops of the heads of almost everyone else in the hall and gave a tiny smile. Percy responded with a grin.

            “My test subjects,” Rachel continued, “are going to be called ‘A’ and ‘B’ for this summary and analysis, and they are both males aged between 18-22.”

            Rachel flipped a slide that said across the top, ‘Days one through three’, with a spread chart beneath it. Rachel was one of the rare human gems that knew how to use Microsoft Excel.

            “Even though I know it’s a case study, technically,” Rachel said, “as I have a certain affection for cheesy names, I like to call it the Contact Project.”

            Jason bumped his knee with Percy’s, causing Percy to laugh. A few people looked over at them, mostly startled but uncaring. Rachel had been talking, and she flipped the slide. She grinned.

            “And here’s where it gets a little interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee that was the final chapter. This has been,,, a journey,,, and... i just wanted to say that i'd--well, i'd like to thank my mother, and my microwave, and all the wonderful people back at buzzfeed for inspiring this trashcan... 
> 
> no srsly thx.
> 
> On another note, can ya'll believe my boy Percy Jackson turns 23 (math is hard) in just a couple of weeks?? 'Cause I can't. Imma totally make a boxed cake.


End file.
